


8:15 PM

by Singingthe_blues



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, im sorry, not really sure why I did this, thank you omigiri server, this is random
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26022163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singingthe_blues/pseuds/Singingthe_blues
Summary: “Because you never think that the last time is the last time. You think there will be more. You think you have forever, but you don’t.”- Grey’s Anatomy
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15
Collections: 🐶🍙 omigiri fanfic collection





	8:15 PM

**Author's Note:**

> I want to begin by apologising for the cheesy quote but it fits. This is literally a random thought that occurred to me in the middle of my genetics homework and I’m super super grateful to the initial positive feedback I got in the OsaOmi server! You all literally motivated me to post my first ever piece of writing on AO3! Thank you all very much and please endure my 12 am writing. Xx

Cold. Dark. Numb. The air was unforgiving against the little amount of skin he had showing. 

Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe. It was hard to remind himself of that as he ran. On any other run, there’d be no issue. Breathing would’ve been as easy as cooking was to him. Now, running was hard. There was that sensation they talk about in films that never seemed quite real. Drowning in air rather than in water. Lungs feel oh so heavy that you might just collapse, suffocating, struggling, desperate for the slightest amount of air. Osamu knew the moment his acceleration would decline that it would be the moment he’d start drowning. But Kiyoomi...he had to get to him. Not getting there in time was surely more murderous than suffocating on his emotions. 

Roughly two kilometres. That’s how far away he was from him. How almost in his reach he was. The air suddenly didn’t feel as cold as a warm liquid brought heat to his face. Barely having time to blink away or wipe at it. The meaning of time suddenly precious. Approximately thirteen hours ago he showered. Twelve hours ago he was kissed and told to have a successful work day before walking out for what was another ordinary day in their household wondering what he’ll make for dinner twelve hours later when he’d get home to his partner. Now. 9:27 PM. 21:27. It had been exactly twenty-three minutes and thirty-eight seconds since he left. Twenty-four minutes and nine seconds since he dropped his phone. Twenty-five minutes and fourty-one seconds after “It’s Omi” was muttered out by a unrecognisable tone. 

Six minutes and twenty-eight seconds and two kilometres later the view of the scene came into view. How could he still look so beautiful? The frame of 9:34 PM was now etched into his mind forever as his tired eyes met Kiyoomi’s glazed ones. Body refusing to stop as he somehow ran faster towards him. However the body’s of overs held his back. There was no sound in his ears when his lips separated, emitting his name so loudly, yet he could feel the heat of pain the sound left in his throat. Unable to discern who was holding him back into their chest, arms and shoulders gripped tightly to someone. The warmth flooded his face unknowingly. How could someone look so beautiful yet so lifeless in the cold asphalt ground of December? How could the lights of red and blue so perfectly reflect off of him as he laid their so peacefully? How could one look so perfect even with a hole in their heart? His Kiyoomi... the one who made sure he followed every sanitation guideline in his shop. The one who taught him the art of properly caring for ones self. Kiyoomi who taught him what love was and how to love and how to live. His darling, who would laugh just ever so slightly at the banter. His half who was just staring at him with no emotion behind his eyes now. 

“Wrong...robbery....took...” words that barely registered in his head as those around him spoke to him. Hearing was coming back. He didn’t want to hear yet. A wetness hit his shoulder. Just like the one against his cheeks. So it was Atsumu holding him through the entirety of this. There was something in his hand though. Not understanding why but he had the urge to pry it open. The task of that was difficult as the hand was clutched so tightly, however his distraction in crying made it easier as it fell to ground. 9:39 PM Osamu Miya learned Kiyoomi Sakusa bought a ring. It just wasn’t in the box anymore. Neither was Kiyoomi.   
.  
.  
.  
.  
”Medical examiners have concluded that the cause of death in the late volleyball player Sakusa Kiyoomi, was a direct bullet to the heart resulting in an instantaneous death. The ordeal occurred the evening of December 17th. Eye witnesses say he exited a vehicle and shortly after was assaulted and murdered during what seemed to be a robbery attempt, however no items of significance have been listed as missing from his belonging...” The television being silenced shortly after by the twin as Osamu was moulded into the couch like a fungi. It had been one month and seventeen days since that night and the box never left his hands. The television never ceasing to emit the name Sakusa Kiyoomi and the word “death”. It was the only thing he could pay any attention too. It would be for the next one month and seventeen days as well.


End file.
